


Teacups and Lingering Love

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Torchwood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:46:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. The Doctor is human, Rose is human. They are friends who work for a scientific research company called Torchwood. Just good friends. But maybe, perhaps, something happens to make them re-evaluate their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rose Tyler was more than just his secretary.

He wasn't quite sure why she put up with him as a boss, to be honest. He was self-aware enough to realise that he could be a bit of a pain in the arse. For instance, part of Rose Tyler's job description, just beneath the line about her doing the admin and answering the phone, was to keep the fruit bowl well stocked with bananas and the tiny kitchen area well stocked with tea bags and milk and lots and lots of sugar.

Also, he was constantly interrupting her work by sitting on her desk and talking to her. Well. More than talking. Babbling, really, he'd grudgingly admit. But he couldn't help it, you see, because he simply had to share every single random thought he had with her because — well, because —

He wasn't really sure why, he just felt like he should. 

And okay, so _maybe_ he held a little bit of a torch for her. But she was so funny, and clever, and really very gorgeous, so could you blame him? Nope.

She'd sit at her computer, typing away, indulging him by letting him spew out his usual nonsense about this, that and the other, calmly nodding and smiling and generally being very witty when he'd said something that made him sound like an idiot, and to be honest, he kind of sort of liked that. She'd look at him out of the corner of her eye and flash that smile at him, the one with her teeth and her tongue and she'd let him know via that smile that she was only teasing him.

And she didn't complain about the absurdity of addressing him as Doctor. Everyone else was boring and called him John, or Dr Smith (for yes, he did have a PhD, ta very much), no matter how much he told them not to, but Rose...she got him. She understood him. She called him Doctor.

Thing was, she'd started working for him just under a year ago, and they had become fast friends. He'd needed someone to do all the paperwork-y stuff that he wasn't very good at, as well as help him out with an extra pair of hands during his own experiments and things in the lab, and she, well, she was perfect. 

She wasn't conventionally clever in the sense that she had a list as long as her arm of qualifications, but she was clever in the best way, the most important way. That was, although she initially didn't have a great depth of knowledge about his scientific concepts and whatnot, she picked up stuff astoundingly quickly. It was why he liked to ramble at her, actually; he knew she took almost everything in, even when she pretended she wasn't. He was more than her employer, he was her teacher, and she was the best student he could have hoped for to partake in this bizarre life as a scientist's assistant for him.

And...and they were friends.

Her hours were nine to five, but she didn't strictly speaking stick to that structure. Her second day, she'd broken it, in fact, and it had been so ever since. Instead, she came in around eight-fifteen and left at six-thirty, only she didn't actually leave him at six-thirty, because it was at six-thirty that he opened the door and followed her out, and together they'd walk into town for dinner. Every weekday evening.

So, that meant they were friends, right? That was what friends did. They socialised together after work. Right?

(He didn't have much experience in these things.)

However, he and Rose Tyler weren't the only people who worked in this office-lab-building-thing. No, no. It just felt like that, sometimes, because, well, everyone else scarpered as soon as their shift was technically over.

But there were others. Martha and Owen, his fellow scientists. They each had assistants of their own, Donna and Gwen respectively. Toshiko was in charge of computing and was a mathematical genius. Ianto was the team's researcher, who happened have an outstanding local knowledge considering he wasn't even from London, and he also made rounds of rather excellent coffee for them all, using the proper coffee machine thingy and everything. And they all worked together like a great big happy family - well, all right, not quite. But it was a reasonably friendly atmosphere, and there was the sense that everyone generally got on well together.

He got on particularly well with Donna, who had a terrific sense of humour and was always ganging up on him with Rose about his eccentric nature. Martha was brilliant, he admired Tosh's intelligence, Gwen was the empathetic, nurturing sort with a dash of adventurous spirit, and Ianto's one-liners were always ready to lighten the sometimes tense environment. Owen could be a bit of a grumpy bastard, but their rivalry was only an act, and really he quite liked the man.

And then there was Rose, who...

Well. Yes. We know exactly what he thought of her.

So anyway, they all worked alongside one another in a company called Torchwood, which was a scientific research company that dealt with researching the very top secret things that the government wanted researched. Currently, the hot project was developing a vaccine for a particularly nasty virus that was being passed on amongst children in the most deprived countries in the World. If they succeeded, it could be sent abroad as more effective aid than throwing money at these poorer nations, who could not use economics and bureaucracy to save their children, but instead needed foolproof prevention methods.

So that was them. Very Important People. Paid by the government and everything.

Their proper boss — for as much as the Doctor would like to be self-employed, unfortunately, he was not — was called Captain Jack Harkness. He wasn't sure why his boss called himself Captain, because he evidently hadn't been a captain really. But they all sort of called him that anyway, which was silly, because they didn't call him 'Doctor,' and he was definitely more of a doctor than Captain Jack was a captain...

Anyway, this Captain was nice enough, he supposed, and a good boss. But he had one fatal flaw.

He was extremely good-looking, and Rose Tyler noticed this.

The Doctor noticed that she'd noticed this. Well, he'd noticed that all the women who worked there had noticed this. He wasn't bothered about being overlooked in favour of Captain Jack Harkness by the others, but Rose...

Well. He didn't know why, but the thought that she found him attractive just did not sit well with him.

But that was all entirely beside the point. The point was...wait, what was his point? Oh yes! The point was, Rose Tyler was possibly most definitely his best friend there, and he liked spending time with her. Which was both wonderful and horrible. It was wonderful because Monday to Friday, he got to spend time with her, but it was horrible because on the weekends, she appeared to have a life outside of work and him and...well. The long and short of it was, he didn't get to spend time with her on the weekends, which made him sad, because he did like spending time with her so very much.

Still! He just had to make the most of her company during the week, then, right? Right.

Now all of this he was pondering over his cup of coffee one Saturday morning. Two facts you should ascertain from that sentence. One, he didn't drink tea at the weekends, because it took the fun out of it when Rose Tyler wasn't there to have tea with him, and two, he was a bit of a workaholic — or rather, he had nothing else to do — therefore he came in on a Saturday and spent all day in the lab feeling sorry for himself and pretending to do Very Important Work. Of course, Sundays he did not go in — unless there was some sort of emergency - for that was his brisk-walk-in-the-park and read-several-books day.

But here, today, it was a Saturday. Ten o'clock in the morning, and he was already bored. Everyone else was sensible and just came in for a few hours on the weekends, here and there, fitting it around their relaxation time. For instance, Owen came in at one, after he'd got over his hangover from Friday night, and stayed until five, before going out clubbing again Saturday night and repeating the situation on Sunday.

Only Martha was here at the same time as him on a Saturday morning. With that thought, he looked up, only just registering her presence in the room, and oops, she'd been talking to him and he hadn't noticed. He wondered if he'd be good at improvising should she ask him his opinion on whatever it was she was speaking about.

"I said, are you actually going to do anything in here, or are you just going to mope around all day?" Martha asked with a kind smile, taking a seat next to him.

"Sorry," he apologised, rubbing his eyes wearily. "I was a million miles away. I will do something in a minute, promise."

She nodded, and took a sip of her drink. "Ianto would kill us if he knew we were drinking instant coffee," she commented.

He chuckled. "Yeah, well. He ought to come in just to make us some proper coffee on a Saturday, then."

"Oh, he's probably too busy with his own life to worry about doing that for us."

He frowned then, contemplatively. "Martha."

"Yeah?" she replied, leaning forward.

"You're young," he continued, and her eyes twinkled with something like anticipation and he wondered what on Earth she thought he was going to say next, because it wasn't nearly so interesting as she seemed to be hoping for. "Why do you hang around here on what is technically your day off?"

She glanced away for a moment, and coughed a little awkwardly. "I..."

"I mean, me, I get bored in my flat on my own, so I come here to immerse myself in work, but you — you've probably got all sorts of better stuff to be doing."

"I like work," she said, shifting uneasily in her seat.

He shrugged and drank the rest of his coffee. "Fair enough." He stood up and made to move over to his workstation.

"And you know, it's nice to just..." she trailed off for a moment, and he put his glasses on to adjust a reading, his back to her as she carried on speaking, "Well, I thought...it's just...you know. To keep you company. It's nice just to be here with you with no one else around."

The Doctor paused, and one eyebrow shot up his forehead. Was she saying...?

He quickly spun around and whipped off his glasses. "Eh?"

Martha smiled shyly and got up, advancing towards him with a hesitant yet determined look on her face. "Well, we hardly get a chance to talk when everyone's here, do we?" Her eyes narrowed slightly and he had the sudden feeling that she was making a bit of a hint to the amount of time he spent not actually in the lab with her and Owen but outside in the office chatting to Rose Tyler.

He swallowed. "Er...I suppose not, no."

"So it's like...Saturday mornings, it's just you and me," she continued.

"Right. I suppose they are, yes." He felt decidedly uncomfortable when she stepped into his personal space. He got a bit claustrophobic when people did that. And by 'people,' he did not include Rose Tyler, because she was...well, she just wasn't any old 'people.' He rather liked it when she walked quite closely next to him on their evening meals out. But Martha Jones, as nice as she was, was not Rose Tyler, so he backed up slightly. "Martha..."

"Yes?" she replied eagerly, giving him a big smile.

"You are talking in terms of just...friendship, right?" he asked slowly, quietly, worried he'd embarrass her but even more worried that she'd do something ridiculous like try and come onto him or something if he didn't make himself absolutely clear.

"That depends," she shrugged. "On what you want it to be."

He gulped. "Friends," he said hastily, and tried not to wince when her face slowly dropped. "Because, um, Martha...I don't..."

"You don't...?" she prompted.

"I don't do any other-than-friends stuff."

Her brow furrowed curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the dating and dancing thing, I don't...do that." She laughed, and he looked at her blankly in confusion. "What?"

"You're...you're joking, right?" she giggled.

"Erm, no, not really."

"Then what do you call all those Friday night dates to that Italian restaurant in town with Rose?"

His eyes widened. "Firstly, those are not dates; we're just friends. Secondly, how do you even know about that anyway?" He refrained from mentioning the fact that he and Rose ate dinner together at various other restaurants and cafés on the other weekday evenings.

Martha seemed inordinately pleased with his response. She waved a hand as if to dismiss his second point, mumbling something about it being her way home from the gym and that she occasionally spotted them in there as she passed. "So, you and Rose aren't seeing each other?"

He blinked for a few moments, then sighed. "No."

"Huh," Martha pondered. "I'd been thinking that maybe she was going all hot and cold on you, and that's why you were always moping about here at the weekend."

He rolled his eyes. "Firstly," he began again. "Rose wouldn't do that, and secondly, stop calling it moping, I just..."

"So...if you're not together," she said, drawing out the phrase thoughtfully. "And you evidently have no girlfriend at home waiting for you...you're single, yeah?"

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say no because he didn't want to be single. Didn't want to be single because he wanted to be with —

"Yes. But not looking," he added hurriedly, "To start anything. Sorry."

"But you're lonely," she stated.

"Only on weekends," he protested.

"So where's Rose, then, hmm?" she asked pointedly. "Not here with you, is she?"

He folded his arms defensively. "This isn't about Rose."

"Of course it is!" she exclaimed, then paused, taking in a deep breath. He watched her, bewildered. He had no clue what precisely was going on at that present moment, but he was quite certain that he'd grasp absolutely any opportunity for a distraction from it.

Martha continued talking, "Of course it is about her. I'm not blind, John. None of us are. We see the way you look at her, and I'm sorry to break it to you like this, but the fact is, you only see her at work and on your precious Friday night dates - "

"I just told you, they are not dates - " he interrupted her, but she interrupted him right back.

"And if she was really interested, then she'd be here now. Or you'd not be here now, but be with her, out for the day or in her flat or something. But she isn't and you aren't, which means she's not interested and you're being deluded and need to get over it." She exhaled roughly. "Sorry," she mumbled half-heartedly. He stared at her, utterly speechless. "But I just...I just want you to notice me, for a change, and how I'd...how I'd be here for you whenever you needed me." She shrugged a shoulder. "Or, you know. Whenever you wanted me."

He opened his mouth to reply but was saved by his mobile phone ringing. He resisted a grin of relief and smiled apologetically at Martha instead, saying, "I should take this, I'll just be a moment, sorry!" And then he dashed out of the lab and into the office to get away from her accusing, persistent expression, and answered his phone without looking at who'd called.

"Hello?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Hello, is that the Doctor?" asked a female voice that he'd never heard before.

"Yes it is," he answered, not pausing to think about why she'd called him Doctor and not Dr John Smith like the rest of the Earth's population (bar Rose, of course.) "Who's this?"

"My name's Jackie," she mumbled, and he realised that her voice sounded shaky, slightly dazed.

"Are you okay?" he replied, ever the one to want to help people. "What is it? Are you hurt? How did you get this number?"

There was a rush of breath at the other end of the line. "Rose's phone, it was in her bag, I..." she trailed off, and he heard her give a choked sob.

His heart lurched in his chest. "What did you just say? Did you just say Rose? What is it? What's happened? Is she all right? What's going on? Who are you?"

"Calm down, sweetheart, it's gonna be all right," Jackie said, but there was a tremor in her voice. He knew instantly who she was; she was Rose's mother. Only a mother could say something like that to reassure her daughter's friend whilst tearing up inside herself. "But the thing is...she's...she's - "

"She's what?" he asked, panicking as he went through every scenario in his head. "She's what, Jackie? Tell me."

"She's sort of had this accident at work, and - "

He frowned and cut her off. "At work? She's not at work. I work with her, and she's not at work."

"No, no — not that work, not your work...she has another job, one that she does at the weekend, it's...it's so she can help me with the rent and things, but anyway, that's not important. The thing is, she's had an accident and we're at the hospital and -"

"I'm on my way," he pre-empted firmly. "Keep talking; tell me what happened." He strode back into the lab and grabbed his coat, holding up a hand when Martha tried to speak. Jackie explained to him that Rose had tripped and fallen, which didn't sound like much except for the fact that she'd hit her head, fallen unconscious, and was now having an MRI scan to check for brain damage. He froze to the spot, his eyes starting to sting. "Will she..." he trailed off, and cleared his throat because his voice sounded hoarse.

"She'd want you here," Jackie told him earnestly. "I think you should be here. Are you sure you can come?"

"Yes, of course," he answered, launching back into action. He dashed into the office again and grabbed his car keys from the pot on Rose's desk where he kept them. "I'll be driving, so I'll hang up now, but Jackie?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell her I'm coming. Even if she isn't awake, even if she can't hear you...tell her I'm coming." And he ended the call and let out a long breath, rubbing at his chest ineffectually, trying to ease the tension, the ache he felt there at not knowing whether his Rose was going to be okay.

"John, what's going on? You look terrible. Has something happened?" asked Martha.

He nodded distractedly, walking to the exit.

"Well, what is it?" she persisted, following him.

"She's had an accident," he murmured, as he headed towards his car, which was parked a little way along the road. "That was her mother, she's at the hospital, it's...it could be serious, it could be nothing, we don't know yet, but I have to go."

Martha's eyes widened. "Rose?" she guessed.

"Yes," he replied succinctly, opening his car door. "Sorry, Martha - "

"I'm coming with you," she interrupted, climbing in to the car on the other side.

"Right," he sighed, because considering she was belting herself in it didn't look like he had much of a choice in the matter. "Why?" he ventured, starting the ignition and pulling away.

"Because I want to see if she's okay," she replied, as if it was obvious. She sighed at his sidelong look. "Listen, I like her, all right? I do. I just don't like the way she's leading you on."

"She isn't 'leading me on,'" the Doctor retorted, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Well, that's not important at the moment anyway, is it? So. How did she hurt herself?"

"Fell at work."

"Work?" Martha scrunched up her nose in confusion. "She wasn't at work."

"That's what I said. Apparently she's got two jobs. I don't think they have much money, her and her mum, who she lives with."

"Oh." Martha seemed to remember something. "Oh, yeah — I think I remember her saying once that she lived on the Powell Estate. That's a council estate, right?"

The Doctor bristled but concentrated on the road, wanting to get the damn car to go faster but not able to because of the amount of traffic. "Yes," he said shortly. "Nothing wrong with that."

Martha held up her hands defensively. "Did I say there was? I was only saying."

"Yeah, I know," he said apologetically. "Sorry I keep snapping at you, it's just — oh bloody hell! Could there be any more red lights today? Why is it that when you really need to get somewhere, all the traffic lights seem to conspire against you?" he muttered to himself grumpily. "Wish this car would just dematerialise here and materialise there."

"That's physically impossible, I'm afraid."

He huffed, "Yeah, 'til I invent a time machine it is."

Martha smiled to herself. "You're going to invent a time machine," she stated in amusement.

"Of course I am," he scoffed, like it was obvious. He'd filled Rose in on his plan a while back, and she'd encouraged him greatly, albeit with a hint of laughter in her eyes. But he liked that. He liked that she was supportive and teasing at the same time. He liked —

Oh god. What was he going to do if she wasn't all right?

He shook his head, trying to shake those sorts of thoughts from his mind. She was going to be okay. She was going to be okay.

As soon as he'd parked the car, he jumped out and dashed over to the hospital's Accident and Emergency entrance. Martha had to sprint to keep up with his pace.

"Hello," he said to the receptionist once he'd got inside. "Can you tell me where Rose Tyler is? She came in a little while ago with a head injury, I think she's had some MRI scans and things - "

"Are you a relative, Sir?" the receptionist inquired politely.

"Um, no, not exactly," he answered. "Where is she?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, not if you aren't a relative."

"I've just spoken with her mother! She wants me to be here!"

"Sir, calm down. I'm sure that once she's sent up to a ward you can discuss visiting hours - "

He stared at her and interrupted with a scoff, "Visiting hours!"

"So she's still down here at the moment?" Martha asked.

The receptionist sighed. "Sir, Madam, if you aren't relatives - "

"He's her boyfriend," Martha told her, rolling her eyes. "You've got to let him in. And I'm her friend." She could feel the Doctor's eyes on her, could almost sense the disbelief radiating off him.

"Well, if you're her boyfriend..." the woman shrugged, biting her lip thoughtfully.

Martha nudged him with her elbow to prompt him to clarify her statement.

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Er. That's right. Boyfriend. Where is she?"

"Just one moment," smiled the receptionist. "Nurse Faldron!" she called a nurse over. "Remember that girl you just brought in, Rose Tyler? Would you mind taking this gentleman to her room?"

"Yeah, of course," he answered.

"She has a private room just for her?" questioned Martha. "In an A&E department? That's kind of odd."

"Special request from some Captain or other," the receptionist waved off dismissively. "Nurse Faldron can take you both to her, I s'pose." She bit her lip again, then added gently, "I hope she's all right."

That didn't sound good. The Doctor swallowed hard. "Thank you." Then he and Martha followed the nurse towards Rose.

On their journey, Martha murmured, "How do you reckon Jack knew she was here?"

The Doctor's jaw clenched tightly. "I don't know."

"I just assumed Rose's mum called you first..."

"Martha," he said warningly.

"What? I'm just pointing it out! Seems a bit strange, don't you think? That he'd know to pull a few strings..."

"Well I guess we'll find out, won't we."

"You don't think they're secretly seeing each other, do you?"

"Martha, stop it."

"Here we are," announced Nurse Faldron. "Give me a moment." He opened the door to the room and spoke quietly with a nurse who was in there. They both then exited and told the Doctor and Martha that they could enter.

"She's had a very bad fall, I'm afraid," said the nurse who had been attending to her when they arrived. "She's unconscious at present, but her mother is sitting with her."

The Doctor stepped into the room and a woman stood up and dashed over to him. "You must be the Doctor," Jackie said hurriedly.

The nurse corrected her. "Mrs Tyler, this isn't a doctor, he's - "

Jackie interrupted impatiently, "- may we have some time with Rose, on our own, please?"

The nurse nodded sympathetically and left the visitors alone. The Doctor coughed awkwardly. "Yes," he clarified Jackie's earlier remark. "I am."

"I'm glad you could come," Jackie mumbled, before sighing heavily. "Here, sit down. Oh! Sorry, sweetheart," she added, realising her rudeness at not paying attention to Martha. "I'm Jackie, Rose's mum."

Martha smiled pleasantly. "I'm Martha, one of Rose's friends from Torchwood. What have the doctors said, then, about her scan?"

While Martha and Jackie discussed the fact that the doctors hadn't really got a clue what was wrong with Rose, the Doctor sat down beside her and took hold of her hand in his, watching her carefully. "I'm here, Rose," he murmured. "And you're going to be okay."


	3. Chapter 3

Two hours later, and Rose had still not awoken. The nurses and doctors who had been in and out of Rose's room hadn't been very forthcoming on news regarding her condition, which worried the Doctor endlessly. Martha persuaded Jackie to go and get something to eat in the hospital canteen, and had shown her the way, under the Doctor's assurance that he would watch Rose for a while on his own.

He concentrated his gaze on the bed for a bit, due to the irremovable lump in his throat at seeing her half-bandaged head. For fifteen minutes, he kept up a babble of one-sided conversation, hoping that somehow she would hear him.

His head jerked up in surprise, then, as he felt her squeeze his hand with the slightest pressure before loosening her grip again. "Rose?" he murmured, his eyes scanning over her unresponsive face. "Rose, can you hear me? It's me, I'm here. It's the Doctor." Still nothing. "Rose? Rose?"

The Doctor hadn't even noticed that a nurse had entered the room, accompanied by Martha. The nurse glanced over Rose's notes, scribbled something down, and told the Doctor, "You need to give her time. She's slipped into a coma, remember, and there's no telling how long she could be out for. Keep talking to her though; people say it helps. Not just for her, but...for you, too."

He nodded absently, keeping his eyes on Rose. He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb and dimly registered the nurse murmuring something to Martha before exiting the room.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" suggested Martha kindly. "I can go and get us some from that vending machine we passed. It'll probably taste disgusting, but..."

"Okay," he replied quietly. "Yeah. Thanks, Martha."

"No problem." She worried her lip as she watched him staring at Rose. His back was to her but she could tell from the set of his shoulders and shallow breaths that he was desperately afraid that Rose wouldn't wake up. No wonder the nurse had refrained from telling him what she'd just told Martha. It might push him over the edge. "I'll get one for Jackie, too. She said she would find her own way back from the canteen once she's had a bite to eat. She should be back soon."

"Okay."

Martha sighed sadly, wondering what she could possibly do to comfort him, then left in search of probably-disgusting tea.

Left alone with Rose again, the Doctor resumed talking to her. "Rose. If you can hear me, squeeze my hand?"

Nothing.

He blinked quickly, trying to hold it together. "I'm going to sit here and talk to you until you answer me back, you know," he commented lightly, in an attempt to mask his anxiety. "Remember the other day, when we found that little café down that sidestreet that we didn't know was there? And we ordered chips to share and two milkshakes. I laughed because you took a long slurp out of my banana one, and the look on your face...it was hilarious! And then I stole your chocolate one in retaliation, because that's only fair. And then you laughed at me, because I had a chocolate moustache. You told me to use the straw next time. I think I told you a joke or something, but I probably wasn't listening to myself which is why I can't remember, because I was distracted by the fairy lights reflecting off your hair.

"By the time we stopped laughing, the chips had gone cold. Still, as you like to say, cold chips are better than no chips. But we promised to go back to that place next week, so that we could sample the chips hot and decide where the café ranks on our list of top chip-makers in London. I really don't know where I am going with this little recounting of events, by the way, but I suppose I just mean that you really, really have to wake up soon, or else we'll break our promise and...and we don't break our promises..." he trailed off helplessly and ran his hand down his tired face.

His next sentence popped out without him meaning to. "Do you think we'll be together, someday?" The silence that followed his question clenched his heart. He gave a nervous, humourless chuckle. "The only time I get the courage to ask that is when you're in a coma," he muttered. "Typical." He brought the hand he was holding up to his mouth and pressed his lips to her knuckles. "I'm sorry."

The door squeaked open and the Doctor instantly dropped their joined hands back to rest on the bed. "Hello," he greeted Jackie quietly as she entered.

"Hi," she replied, sitting down on the chair positioned the other side of Rose's hospital bed. "I just called a few of your friends, from Torchwood. Donna's on her way. I told the others I'd update them later. No point them all being here, crowding the place."

The Doctor nodded. "Mmm," he agreed distractedly. His thumb recommenced its stroking pattern against Rose's.

"Doctor," Jackie said softly.

"Yeah?"

She smiled as tears filled her eyes. "She talks about you all the time, you know," she told him, her voice cracking.

The Doctor turned his head towards her, looking surprised. "She does?"

Jackie nodded.

His brow furrowed. "She keeps secrets from me," he murmured. "She's my best friend, but I didn't even know she had another job, and I've never met you before today. Why is that?"

She sighed. "I think she's trying to keep some parts of herself, of her life, away from you. She's learnt from past mistakes; she refuses to gamble her entire life, to become completely dependent upon someone else."

"I don't understand."

"She left school at sixteen so that she could get a job to help her boyfriend pay for the rent for the flat they shared whilst he 'wrote music' and 'performed gigs around London.' At one point she worked in a Chinese takeaway at the same time as working at Henriks, the place she was working at today. Then she packed the takeaway in, in favour of her job with you, 'cos that pays better."

Jackie paused, watching the Doctor looking at her in confusion for a second before continuing, "She gave up her whole chance of making something better of herself. I know that working in a shop or takeaway or whatever isn't a bad thing to do in life; god knows I've worked in a dozen shops over the last twenty years. But Rose is cleverer than I ever was. She didn't like school all that much because she found the teachers boring, but she still wanted to do something in her life, and she could. That's why I think she likes her job at Torchwood so much. Sure, she's not the scientist saving the health crisis of the minute with a new vaccine or whatever, but she's part of the team that's making a difference, and she loves that."

The Doctor nodded in agreement, then cleared his throat and asked, "So...this boyfriend, then. What happened there? Are they still...together? Is that another thing she's not told me about?"

"God, no. No. He left her for someone else after six months and ran off abroad, leaving her in debt and whatnot. At the time she was heartbroken and angry. Now she realises that she needn't have felt like that, not for him. He wasn't worth the guitar he bought at a bootfair. Nearly four years ago, now, and she knows that there was no love there between them. He was in a band and she was infatuated for a tiny while, but when reality set in, she realised he wasn't all he was cracked up to be. She's had another boyfriend since then, her childhood mate, but...well. They weren't right for each other in the end. Anyway, point is, nowadays she won't let herself get too involved, in case she gets heartbroken for real, this time."

"But I'm her friend," the Doctor protested. "She should be able to tell me anything. She should trust me."

"She spends the majority of her time with you," pointed out Jackie. "You can't blame her from having some time on her own, especially with how busy she is with this other job."

"I know, I know, I just...It feels as though I..."

"What?"

He tugged his ear nervously, unsure whether he wanted to admit this to Jackie or not. "I just..."

"Yeah?" Jackie prompted.

He swallowed hard. "Have you ever felt like you want to spend every single moment of your day with someone?" he rushed out.

Jackie smiled knowingly. "Yeah. But believe me, when you do, you start to regret wishing such a thing. And then after, when it's over..." she trailed off sadly and twisted the ring on her finger back and forth. "You want it back so badly, and you regret regretting in the first place, because now you'll never get the chance again, not even for the crappier moments, and..." She met the Doctor's eyes steadily. "Has Rose told you about her dad?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes. I'm so sorry you both had to go through that."

"She trusts you, then," Jackie said definitively. "If she's told you about Pete. She doesn't tell everyone about Pete."

"I lost my family very young, too. I can empathise."

"What happened?"

"Rose hasn't told you? Thought you said she spoke about me all the time," he said light-heartedly, trying to divert the conversation.

"She doesn't tell me stuff like that. That's your life, your personal life. She rarely tells a story that's not hers to tell."

"What sort of stuff does she say about me, then?" he asked curiously.

Jackie chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Oh, stuff about your genius and amazingness and gravity-defying hair. Oh yeah, and your dreamy smile..."

His eyes widened. "What?"

"Well, maybe she doesn't use those exact words, but that's what she basically means." Jackie paused, surveying the Doctor's surprised expression with some amusement. "Doctor, you're not feeling things all on your own. Rose feels them too."

He gulped. "Feels what?"

"The wanting to be with you all the time thing."

"But she doesn't," he countered. "Otherwise she would accept my invitations when I ask her to meet me somewhere on a Saturday evening or...or come to my place when I ask her to..."

"She just can't let you consume her life," reasoned Jackie. "Otherwise she'd have nothing left if things didn't work out. She's already given you her heart, whether either of you admit that or not. She has to make sure the rest of her life doesn't crumble if you break it."

They stared at one another in silence for ten seconds or so. "How do I persuade her to give me a proper chance?" he found himself whispering.

Jackie sighed sadly. "You've got to wait for her to wake up, first," she whispered back.

He closed his eyes tightly and squeezed Rose's hand. "She will wake up. She will. She has to." He opened his eyes and could no longer see Jackie clearly, as his vision went all blurry with moisture.

Jackie pressed her lips together tightly to stop a sob breaking free. "The doctors aren't that..." she tried, but found herself unable to get the words out.

"Aren't what?"

"They said, if she doesn't wake up in the next twenty four hours or so, they aren't — they aren't - " she broke off, and inhaled deeply before concluding, "They aren't optimistic about her recovery."

"Then she'll just have to wake up in the next twenty four hours, won't she?" he replied instantaneously, his voice clipped. He looked at Rose, and reached his hand forward to tuck her hair behind her ear, trying to tune out the sound of Jackie sniffing and wiping at her eyes. He couldn't let himself feel defeated, not yet. There was still hope to be had, and he figuratively grabbed onto that hope hard.

"Where's Martha gone, by the way?" Jackie mumbled after awhile, trying to distract herself from the helplessness she felt.

The Doctor frowned. "Oh. I don't know. She said she was going to get us some tea, but that was ages ago, now."

"Oh. Well, maybe the vending machine's broken or something."

"Yeah, maybe."


End file.
